Chapter 117

117
HEADQUARTERS, BUCK STRATTON RADIO MINISTRIES, SAN DIEGO

The fat little man stormed into the conference room in his socks. It seemed that he was breathing harder than normal, but that illusion was only made by his bulging eyes and red face. The Pastor appeared to be close to a tantrum and if that were the case, Ted Harper wanted Rosenthal in the room.

"God Damn it, I hate that woman! I know she done made some deal with that slime ball Demon! How the hell else someone like that goin' run for President? For Christ's sake, she a goddamned fallen woman! Don't this country know that women's what got themselves divorced ain't fit for nothin? Hell, if they was, they'd still be married!" Pastor Buck Stratton was explosive.

"Pastor, try to calm down a little. Here let me make you a drink." Ted Harper spoke as if he were on the radio at all times. He quickly handed Pastor Stratton an old fashioned three quarters filled with bourbon. As usual, he had to fight back his gag response when he smelled it.

Just then Andy Rosenthal came through the conference room door. "Did you call me, Ted?"

"Close the Goddamned door, Jew Boy! Get in here an' earn your keep!" This actually bothered Ted Harper more than Rosenthal. The accountant was maintaining phony books to the tune of hundreds of millions as the crooked little radio minister siphoned off more and more of his donations. Consequently there existed a state of voluntary blackmail between him and Stratton -- to the tune of ten thousand a week before taxes. The accountant had been happy to include his friend and co-worker, Ted Harper in the arrangement. However crude and abrasive Buck Stratton was in person or on the air, his illiteracy made him easy to frighten.

Harper and Rosenthal had fed the poor bewildered man a steady diet of nameless fears and other dire possibilities since the ministry had taken off. However neurotic he had been in the trailer park days, he was now in a state of perpetual panic. He even had nightmares of his live in girl friend, Lolly Harshaw, leaving him. Not likely since she would need another twenty points of IQ to cross the street safely.

"That Devil done got Martha! He done made her run for the President. That spells trouble for my ministry! You hear me? Trouble! Just on account that them Feds done her books, you can bet she's goin' to jump my ass like red ants on a picnic! Yessiree! Ain't a good feelin' to have no demon possessed woman after me!" Stratton was roaring. "However good you got my money hid, Jew Boy, you better hide it deeper! What am I goin' to do?"

"We're good with the books and the holding accounts, Pastor. I made a few changes after the divorce, and I am very confident we can handle anything like that if we have to." Andy Rosenthal reported. "You're taking in more cash right now than ever before."

"Andy and I have been talking, Pastor." Ted Harper had managed to refill Stratton's empty glass.

"You can stop right there. Couple o' snakes is already stealing me blind n' I know it! I just ain't caught your little action yet, that's all! Why would I want t' listen to a couple of sidewinders like you two anyways?" The calming effect of the drinks was finally beginning to hit the little man.

"There is an opportunity in everything that is happening, Pastor Stratton. A real chance to move beyond the ministry." Harper began quietly. "Sometimes when things seem to be as bad as possible, there is an opportunity."

"To tell you the truth, I was thinking of gettin' my money together and just high tailin' it out of the damned country. Only problem with that idea's I got more than'll fit in a suitcase." Stratton stared off in a melancholy vision. This time he handed his glass to Harper with a nod. "I hate that goddamned woman. Now she's goin' to cost me all of this. This here Headquarters Building's been my dream through all these years workin' as a humble man of God, tryin' to get the message out and all."

"That's just the point, Pastor Stratton. All your, ah, good work doesn't necessarily have to be lost in this turn of events. In fact, Martha may very well have shown us the way out." Ted Harper handed the Pastor his third drink.

"What the hell you mean by that? As far as I can tell, the bitch just handed me my head on a damned platter. She really is goin' to run for the President, you know. She ain't bluffin' about that. Nosirree! She ain't bluffin' t'all!" Buck Stratton the victim was slightly more entertaining that Buck Stratton the Holy Man. "Them nut cases in the UCFC's goin' elect her no matter what. Old Haskill ain't goin' to stop her -- that other guy ain't either. The way I see it, ain't no one can stop her."

After resting a moment the preacher continued, "Every goddamned stupid thing she's says they's just a cheerin' and clappin'. If a soul didn't know no better, he'd figure she was makin' sense! Course she ain't! How could she? Old Martha got 'bout as much sense as a hungry sow with two pails of slop. Which she is."

This time Andy spoke. "That's just the point, Pastor. Martha is not Presidential material. For one thing she's not a man. This country's been getting closer and closer to electing a woman, but right now everyone is worried about everything that is happening. This is probably not the time for a woman to win. People want someone strong, someone they can trust. They want a man."

"And it's also becoming clear that they have had enough of Robert Haskill. I think they have had enough of his kind of President, too." Ted Harper added. "They're ready for someone different, Pastor. They are ready for you to be President. Andy and I both think you can win the election."

"You know old Martha's got enough of them UCFC crazies to win. How do you figure I got a chance?' That bitch is makin' me gun shy. If everone in that church votes for her, she done got her election." Stratton was interested but less than enthusiastic. "I don't need to get another thumpin' at the hands of the likes of her!"

'First of all, there's still a lot of voters out there who aren't under either the Mark of God or the Oracle of the UCFC. You can get those votes, because you're closer to normal than anyone else in the race. Next, don't forget that you've got at least ninety million people in your congregation. They will vote for you. Finally, not all the UCFC will vote for Martha. Little bunches of 'em have all kinds of reasons why they won't." Ted Harper said persuasively.

"Plus there's another side of this that we think you'll like." Andy Rosenthal broke in, "If you declare your candidacy, you can ask for political contributions. You can sell major favors to some very deep pocket individuals who are going to be looking for a safe haven in this crazy mess. All of that money, and it would be millions, can go into your Political Action Committee soft money fund. Believe me, we're set up to do wonders with that."

"Soft money? I like that idea." Stratton answered dreamily. "You mean I could sell promises just like them big boys?"

"Any candidate with a credible chance of winning -- which you would have -- can do that. In fact, I'll handle it all for you. All you need to do is talk and preach until you win the election." Andy Rosenthal suggested.

"Ummm. President. Soft money. Political contributions." Pastor Buck Stratton leaned back in his recliner. "I think God wants me to be the next President of the United States. Meantime, get me another drink, Harper!"